Suffocate
by Spongy Kidd
Summary: He was suffocated by her lies. She wasn't all he thought she was. My, oh my, she was a wicked one.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So, here's a new story! Sorry that I haven't updated the other story; I'm stuck in a rut with it but hopefully it won't be long until I can finish it. Anyway, enjoy! :)

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He stared at her with cold green eyes, unable to believe what she was saying. His jaw tightened with every word and his fists curled up by his sides. She looked up at him; her 5'5" frame was no match to his 6'10" stature. Her eyes lowered and her bottom lip trembled with fear. She was certain he was going to hit her.

The words 'I cheated on you,' echoed in his mind. They haunted him. They mocked him. How could he be so foolish? Why didn't he see this before? His mind raced and he sighed. She had _lied_ to him. He wouldn't be able to forgive her. He _couldn't_. A leopard never changes its spots. He mused about that thought for a little while until his eyes rested upon her slender form.

His stare intensified, watching her movements carefully. Every time he moved his hand slightly she flinched. "Look at me," he ordered softly. With jerky motions she lifted up her head and met his gaze, seeing hurt in those precious green pools. He unclenched one of his fists and cupped her chin gently. She looked away, not being able to live with what she done to him. "Why do you think I'm going to hit you, Jaymie?"

"I... I can see the hurt, an- and... anger in your eyes." Her voice raw, her words stuttered. She pulled away and walked over to their sofa, her head resting in her hands. "I didn't mean to Mark." The tears flowed freely down her reddened cheeks, staining them further with black mascara and eyeliner.

Tattooed arms folded across his broad chest, his eyes firmly locked on Jaymie. He honestly couldn't believe that she thought he would hit her. He made it perfectly clear at the start of their relationship that he thought men who beat on their girlfriends or wives were cowards, idiots and pathetic.

"You're on the road so much and I barely have time to be with you when you are home. You're always working on your motorbikes, or travelling even _more_ to see your children." Mark's jaw tightened once again; her voice sounded as venomous as a snake and he didn't like it one bit. "We don't even have a sex life anymore!" She stood up, the tears and black ink drying on her skin, walking towards her boyfriend... _for now_.

Mark watched the small blonde walk towards him, the sound of her black high heels clicking against the wooden floor of the living room. He remembered the way she looked at him when they first met, her warm smile sending butterflies into his stomach. He never admitted that – after all, it wouldn't be good for his reputation in the WWE as the 'Deadman'. But as he looked at her now that smile wasn't anywhere to be found, her blue eyes cold and sinister... What has happened to the fun loving blonde he used to know?

She placed her hands on his pectoral muscles, feeling them tense underneath the cloth of his shirt. As her hands ran down the material, she unbuttoned the shirt in a slow, sensual way. Mark quickly snapped back into reality - the smoke clearing from his mind – as he felt her soft skin against a nipple. He snatched her hand away roughly, glaring down at her and watched as she smirked.

"It was all a facade." His lips pressed together, making a thin line. "You lied to me when you said you loved me, didn't you?" Mark waited for her to change her facial expression but it stayed in the same smirk. "Why, Jaymie? _Why?!_" He grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him. "I could take every word you said to me, and throw them back at you and you wouldn't even care, would you?" That smirk still remained.

"Which one do you love, Mark?" She drawled in a sensual, dark tone; her accent coming out fully. Her wrists were freed and she stumbled backwards when Mark pushed her away. He couldn't deal with this sudden turn.

"You suffocated me with your lies." He took a deep breath, pain present in his eyes, his hands shoved roughly into his jean pockets. "I thought you wanted _me_, not my possessions, not my money..." Mark took one good look at her as his temper rose. He wanted nothing more to smack that seemingly permanent smirk off Jaymie's face. "Get out."

A laughed filled the room causing Mark to stop in his steps as he moved to the liquor cabinet. He turned around slowly to find his now ex girlfriend sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed, laughing with glee. The audacity of this woman was astounding. "Aren't you going to throw me out, _honey_?" She looked so proud of herself. Mark growled. "Come on now, I want to feel those strong hands around my waist one more time..." She trailed off, her eyes flickering with something Mark couldn't make out. Was that the look of amusement? Happiness? He wasn't sure.

He wouldn't give into her. Not now. He did that in the past and look where it got him. Mark turned his back on Jaymie one more time and picked up a frosted glass. He poured the bourbon into the angled glass with grace, the movement calming him down slightly. The scent of liquor surrounding him and he licked his lips. Taking a mouthful, he hummed with satisfaction. Mark sat down in the plush chocolate coloured leather chair, liquor in hand, and closed his eyes.

Jaymie watched him. He looked peaceful; his eyebrows weren't drawn together any more, his lips weren't pursed in thought or anger and his fingers drummed gently against the leather beside him. She didn't expect this. She wanted him to be physical with her, to throw her out of the house himself, to shout and curse at her. He didn't... and she was disappointed. A show is what she wanted from him. Something she could laugh at, and laugh at _him_ too. She walked out the living room, her heels echoing in the silence and picked up her bags from the bottom of the staircase.

She closed the door behind her and looked up at the baby blue sky, filled with fluffy, pure white clouds. This part of her life was gone. Jaymie straightened up her posture, her head held high, and smirked. "Time to play the game."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who has read the story thus far! It won't be a long story, just so you know. :) The title of the story comes from the song "Suffocate" by Cold, and the song at the very start of this chapter is from "It Only Hurts" by Default. Sit back, relax, and if you can, review. Thank you!

**ETA:** I've just added something to the end of the chpater! Hope you're not mad at me. :P

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"_It only hurts when your eyes are open..."_

He was besotted with her straight from the beginning. She was beautiful, funny, loving and honest – well, until recent events. Damn, that girl was a good actress. He shook his head in disbelief and took yet another gulp of the strong liquor. The liquid burned the back of his throat in such a satisfying way that he growled out loud in pleasure. Mark muttered the praises of the drink before a knock at the door caught his attention.

Groggily, Mark pulled himself up from the leather chair and unlocked the door, opening it to a very cheery Glenn Jacobs. He walked back to the living room with Glenn following suit, closing the door behind him.

"You look like hell," Glenn told his older – and taller – best friend, settling himself down on the sofa opposite Mark.

"Thanks buddy." Mark ran his hand through his jet black hair, taking a sip of bourbon afterwards. "You want some?" He motioned to the glass, the liquid swashing around freely. Glenn shook his head. "Suit yourself," he grumbled; his Texan accent faintly present.

Glenn studied his best friend's features and frowned. Dark circles underneath his eyes, a stubble growing on his face, his hair tousled more than usual. "What's happened, man?" He questioned, unsure of if he should be prepared to get his ass kicked. The last time he asked Mark what wrong, he had just divorced Sara, and Glenn ended up with a black eye and had to replace the locker room door. He shivered involuntarily at the thought.

Green eyes stared at the black rug underneath the coffee table, laced with magazines on top of it. All of those magazines were Jaymie's. "Jaymie," was all he said. Mark sighed softly and placed the frosted glass on top of those magazines. One large hand rubbed his eyes and he settled himself back into the chair. "She lied to me. She cheated on me and even tried to blame it on me by telling me I was always travelling, either for work or to see my kids, and then said we didn't have a sex life anymore." His eyebrows knotted together, a frown forming on his lips. "It was a facade. She didn't love me. Ever."

Glenn didn't know what to say, or what to do. Sure, Mark had been through this situation many times before but he was smitten with Jaymie. Hell, everyone knew he was smitten with her from day one of their relationship. "Drinking yourself into oblivion won't help, that's for sure." As soon as those words left his mouth, he flinched, ready for an object to fly through the air and hit him with a lot of force.

"No, it won't, but it'll ease the pain." With the glass in one hand he picked up the bottle of bourbon and refilled it right to the top.

"I'll go and make you something to eat. It looks like you haven't slept all night and I'm pretty sure you haven't moved from that chair. You can't survive just on drink, Mark." He nodded and knew Glenn was right.

"Thanks." And with that he downed the rest of the liquid, pulled himself up so he was sitting upright and pushed the liquor glass on the coffee table.

The clatter of pans, plates and cutlery filled the silent house and Mark chuckled lowly. His lowered his head to his hands which were resting upon the top of his knees and sighed. He wondered what he had done wrong for Jaymie to lie to him for the whole of their relationship. For over a year he believed every single thing she said, he had no reason to doubt her. A fool. That is what she took him for and he hated himself for not seeing any signs sooner.

"_Hey! Come back! Oh, that's totally not fair. Markyyyyyy!" Jaymie was running after her boyfriend who was only walking a little faster than normal, hoping she could get her bra from his meddling fingers before the rest of the roster came out of their hotel rooms to see what all the commotion was about._

_He looked over his shoulder while still walking, seeing that she was still running full speed and he laughed to himself. She stole his favourite bandana and he thought stealing her bra was enough punishment, and to make sure she didn't do it again. Mark grinned like the Cheshire cat and continued walking until he found his best friend's room. Knocking wildly on the wooden door, he locked his gaze on his girlfriend running down the hallway. _

"_Glenn, open up, you lazy bastard!" He kept pounding on the door, hoping that woke up his idle friend. Mark's eyes were still on Jaymie and as he went to hit the door once again, he felt something softer._

"_FUCK! Mark, what the fuck was that for, you fucker?!" Mark's eyes snapped towards the bald man in front of him, Glenn holding his nose with one hand covered in blood. Green eyes sparkled with amusement. _

_Mark felt something slip through his fingers and noticed that Jaymie had taken her bra back. He looked at the petite blonde standing next to him, the unforgettable look of smugness written across her face. Jaymie looked at the younger man in the door way of his room, standing there in just his boxer shorts and saw the blood pour down from his nose, dripping from his chin onto his bare chest._

"_Holy shit Glenn... What happened?!" Glenn shot a death stare at Mark and she followed his stare, laughing when Mark looked like a little kid who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar._

_He held his hands up in the air and said, "It was by accident! This lazy bastard," he pointed to Glenn, "wouldn't answer the door quick enough!" Jaymie shook her head and laughed._

"_Let's get you cleaned up, honey." She ushered Glenn into his hotel room as he winked to Mark over his shoulder, making Mark growl under his breath, and shot Glenn a death stare of his own before following both of them into the room, chuckling at the sight of Glenn wincing as Jaymie cleaned his face up._

"What have you done to me, Jaymie...?" He asked himself and sighed. His shoulders started to jerk and tears rolled freely down his cheeks. "What has become of me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thanks everyone for reading this story! The end is near and there should be another story in the works if my mind can come up with anything really good. (Coursework and work is draining me of creativeness, ugh!) The lyric from the start of this chapter is from "Hollywood Whore" by Papa Roach. And if you didn't catch the ETA in the last chapter, I changed a few things towards the end of chapter 2. I hope you don't hate for me that. :P Enjoy!

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"_Hollywood whore passed out on the floor... I'm sorry but the party's over."_

"Sit the fuck down, bitch!"

He pushed her roughly onto the sleazy hotel bed and held her down by the throat. Her blonde locks haphazardly framed her face, her eyes wide and her cheeks turning red. He pressed down on her throat earning a wheezing noise from her and laughed deeply.

In a way Jaymie knew this was going to happen; he had done it in the past. But this time it was personal to him and she knew he was going to take _all_ of his frustrations out on her. It wouldn't be pretty. Heck, she wouldn't be pretty after he was done.

"Paul, please don't..." She begged after he released his vice grip on her throat, rubbing the tender area with her own hand. Cold brown eyes stared at her, a wicked gleam in them as he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down his thighs along with his boxers. Jaymie closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out what Paul would do next.

_She didn't have much. All she had was the two small suitcases that she carried with her at all times. No house, no car and very little money. If she could afford it she'd go and rent out a tiny motel room, the ones you usually see on TV about how shockingly disgusting they are, but it suited all of her needs even if it was for one night. She owned a cell phone, too, but only for business. _

_Ah, business... It wasn't a proper business as such. Jaymie didn't intend for her life to turn out like this. It only started as something on the side to earn extra money against the wages she received every month from her mindless retail job. However her supposedly best friend kept hooking her up with his friends, and from then on, it became serious cash. Especially when she met Paul Levesque. _

_He liked the look of her straight away. Long blonde hair, cobalt blue eyes and the fairest skin he had ever laid eyes on. She was beautiful. Even her accent blew him away. A soft spoken princess, in all ways, even if she was giving out blow jobs for cash in return. Paul knew she would be perfect for what he had in mind and gave a charming smile. _

"_So, let me get this right... You want me to be in a 'relationship'," she used her fingers to make air quotes, "with a guy called Mark Calaway because you want to get under his skin?" Paul nodded. "What's in it for me?" _

"_I'll rent out one of my houses for you. I'm sure he'll want to see where you live, and by the looks of things, you don't live anywhere." He motioned towards the suitcases beside her and Jaymie gave a sheepish smile. "I'll pay you £2,000 a month." She cocked an eyebrow at this figure of money. "No strings attached, I promise. I just want you to make him think you love him. He's recently split up from his wife and for him to be hurt in love once again will break him down."_

_Thoughts raced through her mind. She didn't want to break a man's heart, but the money was too good to pass up. It couldn't be that hard, could it? Without giving it much thought Jaymie agreed. And the rest was history._

She could do this in her sleep. Giving blow jobs was – and still is, she guessed – her job. Paul was an easy man to please. A bit of pressure at the base of his shaft, a quick run of her nails over his dick and a steady pace of sucking and licking, he was gone. A guttural moan escaped his mouth and she swallowed his all of his cum. Then again, Jaymie was so used to swallowing it was like a second nature to her.

Paul gave her a wide smile, feeling smug with himself. He took in her current state and smirked. Her throat had already bruised, her cheeks reddened from his slaps during his blow job. His eyes snaked down her body and he licked his lips. "Those clothes will have to be removed quickly if you don't want me to rip them off your body, darling." He told her darkly, Jaymie shivering involuntarily at the tone of voice. Even though she hated his guts after all what had happened, that voice still got her wet. She proceeded to take off her clothes, one item at a time, under the hungry stare of Paul until she stood in between his legs in all of her naked glory.

This is who Mark Calaway fell in love with. A two bit whore. Life was one cruel mistress.


End file.
